


Commit to the Bit

by rippergiles



Category: Taskmaster (UK TV) RPF
Genre: First Time, M/M, follow up to the series 6 kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:40:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26085847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rippergiles/pseuds/rippergiles
Summary: “I genuinely want to kiss you right now,” Alex said, and he meant it. But he didn’t really expect Greg to take the bait.
Relationships: Greg Davies/Alex Horne, mentioned Alex Horne/Rachel Horne
Comments: 18
Kudos: 122





	Commit to the Bit

**Author's Note:**

> I just watched nine series of Taskmaster in three weeks and make no excuses for writing this. Unbeta'd, so if you see an error feel free to let me know :)

“I genuinely want to kiss you right now,” Alex said, and he meant it. But he didn’t really expect Greg to take the bait.

So when Greg smirked and said “Do you? Come on, then,” Alex’s stomach swooped. He was already turning to him, leaning over the arms of his throne, and Alex didn’t have time to back down. 

Their eyes met, Greg still smirking. For all the joking they’d developed over the last couple series about their on-screen relationship, they’d gone off-script now, and Greg’s raised eyebrow seemed to challenge him. Was he willing to commit to the bit?

Alex broke out in a nervous smile, then gave a nod tiny enough so only Greg, inches away from his face, could see. He was game.

Their lips came together as the crowd cheered and whooped. The kiss was chaste, and Alex pulled away before he wanted to. It wouldn’t do to look too engaged in front of a studio audience, even if one of the contestants let out a sigh that sounded quite a bit like “finally”.

* * *

“That was a fun one,” he said casually after taping ended. He avoided looking up at Greg as they both collected their things from backstage.

“Sure was, mate.” Greg waved goodbye to Alice and Liza as they exited the studio, leaving Greg and Alex largely alone except for a few techies buzzing around, collecting mic packs and sweeping up the stage. “Was Rachel in the audience tonight?”

“Nah, home with the kids. She watches the episodes on telly though.”

Greg glanced at him sideways. “Gonna warn her about your little stunt?”

Alex’s neck grew hot before he shook his head. “Doubt I need to. She knows the kind of things I do for the show.”

“For the show, huh?” Greg’s smirk made Alex grow warmer still. 

“Yes,” he replied, though with a less convincing tone than he would have liked.

“Relax,” Greg told him, clapping him on the back. “I’m just fucking with you.” Alex let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, then Greg let his hand rest heavily on Alex’s shoulder. “Crowd seemed to like it though. Hard to see how we’ll up the ante from kissing onstage.”

Alex hoped his gulp wasn’t as audible as it felt. “I’m sure we’ll think of something.”

* * *

The next few days, Alex was getting sloppier in the studio. Missing cues, stumbling over his jokes so they kept needing to reshoot, just totally off his normal in-control calmness. 

He rarely used his dressing room, usually preferring to mingle backstage before and after shooting episodes. But after his flubs tonight he didn’t feel like schmoozing with any of the panelists. He really just needed a few minutes alone. Well, not alone. Just anywhere except next to his unignorable six foot eight host.

He didn’t understand. He’d worked with Greg for years now, and while he’d toed the line of professional boundaries with some of his more submissive task assists, with Greg it had only ever been a running joke. The Taskmaster and his little assistant. Alex would write some bit about sleeping in a dog bed at Greg’s feet or whatever, get the laugh, and move on. So why did a seconds-long kiss seem ready to unravel that? 

Because of course it had always been more than a joke to Alex. This show, as it turns out, was the perfect marriage of his enthusiasm for humiliation (which he’d really only discovered after the contestants began to get more creative with using him in completing their tasks) and his desire to make people laugh. 

He’d talked to Rachel about some of the unintentional arousal he’d felt during some of the tasks, being bossed around by the contestants into doing all sorts of degrading things. He’d felt guilty at the time, but his wife seemed to relish the thought, and their sex life had become all the better after he came clean. Now she was all too happy to hear about whatever bizarre thing he’d come up with, and teased him when the tasks he set inevitably led to him getting his hands dirty, so to speak. But his feelings hadn’t ever focused so acutely on one person before. This felt different.

A knock came on his door. Alex briefly wondered if it was acceptable to pretend not to be available for his own show. Hadn’t most of the crew cleared out by now anyway?

“You in there?” Greg’s voice came softly through the door, much subdued from his usual boom. “It’s me.”

Alex’s heart picked up speed. “It’s open.”

Greg leaned in, ducking his head to not hit the doorframe. “Some of that lot are going round the pub for drinks and are asking if you want to join.”

“I don’t think so.” Alex sighed. “Thanks though.”

Greg held his gaze for a moment, then moved into the dressing room and pushed the door closed behind him. “What’s going on, Alex?”

It was rare for Greg to call him by his name like that. On stage, of course, it was "Little Alex Horne", or "my assistant”. When the cameras were off, a more casual “mate” or no address at all.

“What? Nothing,” he said. “Just getting ready to go.”

“Looks an awful lot like hiding to me. Besides, something’s been up for a few days now. Are you okay?” Greg did seem genuinely concerned.

“Fine,” Alex replied, a little too quickly.

Greg took a step forward and put his hand on Alex’s shoulder. His skin lit up under the touch, and Alex nearly flinched.

“You’re not. Would your answer about going out change if it was just the two of us at a pub, without the hangers on? First round’s on me.”

Alex forced himself to meet Greg’s eyes.

“Yeah, alright.”

* * *

  
  
A few blocks’ ride and a quick text to his wife later, Alex’s foot was tapping the bottom of the bar stool he found himself on as Greg returned to their table. Greg settled in opposite him, then clinked his glass against Alex’s before taking a drink.

“You gonna talk to me now?” he asked, surveying Alex over his glasses. 

“Sure,” Alex replied. “Not like I haven’t spent all night with you though, anything new happened since an hour ago?”

Greg narrowed his eyes and sent a shiver down Alex’s spine. “Come on, mate. You know what I mean.”

“Just some personal issues,” Alex muttered, after taking a considerable gulp of scotch. “Nothing you need to interfere with.”

“What’s being interfered with is work, Alex. And you know I’m always up for some awkward onstage bants, but it feels real lately.” Greg took another drink. “Is it Rachel, is everything okay at home?”

“She’s fine,” Alex said quickly. “They’re all fine.”

“But you’re not?”

Alex sighed, then downed the rest of his liquor. He forced words out before the nerve drained out of him. “It’s you.”

Greg’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean, it’s me?”

“It’s you that’s messing me up lately. I know it sounds...fucking ridiculous, but the joke kiss we did is kind of, I don’t know...on my mind.”

Greg leaned back, studying him again. Alex could easily envision himself as one of Greg’s pupils from his teacher days, feeling all too exposed as this imposing man stared down at him.

“And I’m sorry if that makes this too weird,” Alex said, gesturing between them as he tried to fill the silence. “But you asked, and I don’t know what to do about it, so there you go.”

Greg’s face finally shifted as he let out a laugh. “It really doesn’t, Alex.” 

“What?” His heart was pounding. 

“We’ve been dancing around each other in the show bits for ages now. It’s not that odd if the culmination of that, even as part of the bit, left you a bit unnerved.”

Greg reached across the table and put his hand on Alex’s arm. The touch electrified him, but he tried not to react.

“So what do I do?” Alex asked, feeling like a child. He should be able to handle a few confusing feelings on his own.

“Have you talked to Rachel?”

“Sort of. Not about you, exactly, but about other...other things on the show.”

If Greg found that statement odd, he didn’t press it. “And what did she say?”

“That I should do what makes me happy. That she’ll always be there when I come home.” Alex smiled at that. “She’s too good for me.”

“Too good for everyone, sounds like.”

“Too right,” Alex agreed, then let out a chuckle. “I actually feel better just having told you.”

“Good,” Greg said. “Then you can buy the next round.”

* * *

  
  
The night wore on and Alex loosened up as the empty glasses piled up around them. He and Greg chatted footie, politics, a return to normal conversation that was easier than expected. The pleasant fogginess the alcohol in his blood provided was enough to make him believe that everything could go back to normal by the next time they had to film. 

Alex got up to use the loo, and when his feet hit the floor he suddenly found himself struggling to stand. He pitched forward and crashed into Greg, grasping for purchase and finding himself with one hand on Greg’s shoulder and one high on his thigh. 

Greg took Alex by the shoulders and straightened him out, but not without a smirk and a raised eyebrow. “Getting cocky, aren’t we?”

“So sorry,” Alex murmured, then tried to back away. Greg still had him in a firm grip and didn’t let him break away for a few seconds after the first attempt. Once Alex was freed, he stumbled to the toilets, unable to glance back at what he was sure would be a smug look on Greg’s face.  
  
After relieving himself, he used the sink to splash some cool water on his reddening face. So much for back to normal. 

He had to make an effort on his barely-steady walk back to their table, where Greg looked up and smiled at him, the most innocent kind of smile a man like Greg Davies could muster. He put a hand on the back of Alex’s collar to guide him back onto the bar stool, then pulled a face. 

“Are you _wet_?”

“Oh, erm, yes. Don’t worry, it’s only water.”

Greg checked his watch. “Seems we let the evening get away from us, mate. Do you need to get home?”

Alex ran a hand over his hair and grimaced. “I really didn’t intend to drink so much. I’d...prefer the kids didn’t see me in such a state, but I guess I should go.”

“Suit yourself,” Greg said, getting his wallet out to pay his tab. “I do have a spare room if you’d prefer to sleep your inevitable hangover off with fewer distractions.”

Alex bit his lip. He had to admit that offer was very tempting, but he already felt guilty leaving his family alone for dinner. Plus, with his mixed-up feelings about Greg right now, was going home with him the wisest idea?

As if reading his mind, Greg picked up Alex’s phone. “I’ll sort it.” 

He hit the contact for Rachel and held the phone to his ear. Alex could hear his wife’s soft lilt pick up on the other end.

“Hello my darling, it’s Greg.” A pause. “No, no, he’s alright, just a bit sloshed at the moment, my fault. If you’ll permit me to borrow your husband for the night I promise to return him in much better shape tomorrow.”

He knew Greg was only joking, but the way he was being talked about made Alex’s ears perk up and grow warm.

“Thanks, love.” Greg hung up the phone and handed it back to Alex. “She seems more than capable of handling things at home. Probably the most relaxing night she’s had in months.”

* * *

  
  
Greg didn’t live far, but the rideshare over felt like it lasted a lifetime. Crammed in the backseat with his sizable friend, Alex jostled his legs nervously, watching the familiar London streets as they flew by rather than looking anywhere near the other seat. When they found themselves on Greg’s doorstep, he hung back while the door was being unlocked, and only followed Greg in when he was beckoned. 

He’d been over a few times before, but usually as part of a group. Greg’s place was pretty roomy by London standards, good for entertaining their ever-rotating cast of friends.

“I’m tired of being in a suit,” Greg groaned as he dropped his things on a kitchen counter. “I’m gonna get changed, and I’ll see if I can find you something you won’t drown in.”

“Thanks,” Alex said, dropping his own things on the coffee table and sinking onto a couch.

Greg reappeared a few minutes later, sporting a white t-shirt and blue sweatpants. He tossed Alex a similar, though a bit smaller, outfit.

“Whose are these?”

Greg shrugged. “The last poor sod who found himself drunk in my house, I guess.”

“Fair enough,” Alex laughed, though privately wondered if the clothes had maybe belonged to a partner.

“Nightcap?” Greg asked, though he appeared to already be pouring himself something in the kitchen. Alex was starting to feel a bit too sober for his liking tonight, so agreed.

Greg brought them two glasses of scotch and sat on the couch next to Alex. They clinked the lowballs together and leaned back to drink them. A few minutes of silence passed, punctuated by their occasional sips and breathing. 

“Can I ask you something, Alex?”

“You just did, sir.”

“Don’t be a smart arse,” Greg said, but in a playful tone. “What you said earlier got me thinking. We’ve been playing this...whatever this is on the show for a while now, and getting more flagrant with everything, but how did it even start?”

“How do you mean?”

“I mean, it’s not as if the network approached me and said ‘we want you to host Alex’s show while he pretends to be your increasingly sexualised subservient assistant.’” Greg put down his glass on the table and leaned in closer to Alex. There was scotch on his breath, but some other kind of scent under his clothes. A clean, spicy sort of cologne, maybe. His voice dropped, his next words vibrating against Alex’s cheek. “And now that you’ve revealed a crack in this whole facade, I’m wondering if maybe you’ve set up some of these tasks and banter to...I dunno, cement yourself in that role.”

Alex gulped. “Um, not explicitly.”

Greg took Alex’s face and tipped it toward him. “But it didn’t hurt, is that what you’re saying?”

Forced to meet Greg’s eyes, he nodded.

“Now, Alex, I’m going to ask you one more thing. I want you to answer honestly, but I’ll respect whatever you say, understood?” He finished his drink as he watched Alex slowly nod. “What do you want to happen tonight?”

Alex managed a whispered “What?” because he was sure he was misunderstanding what was being offered. The last thing he needed was to make a further fool of himself where Greg was concerned.

“If you came home with me just to sober up away from your family, that’s fine, and I’ll leave you in the guest room undisturbed.” Greg’s expression was serious, but there was a twinkle in his eyes as he took his glasses off and put them on the table. “But if you want something to happen between us...want me to do something with you, or to you... I’m going to make you ask for it.”

Alex felt his breath hitch as the room went rather wiggly around him. He closed his eyes, trying to calm down before diving headfirst into Greg’s proposal.

“I want you to kiss me...again,” Alex said, and those words alone lifted a weight off his chest.

Greg bit his lip around a grin. “And then?”

“And then… I want you to do whatever you want with me. You’re in charge, after all.”

“Damn right, I am.”

Greg closed the gap between them. The kiss was as simple as the one in the studio at first, but then Greg took Alex’s face in his hands and deepened it, sucking on Alex’s bottom lip before forcing them apart with his tongue. Alex let out an unintentional moan, which made Greg chuckle devilishly, breaking their kiss. 

He pulled Alex closer, then pulled a leg across his lap so that Alex was straddling him before lunging in to kiss him again. Greg ran his hands up Alex’s back, untucking his shirt from his trousers and pushing Alex’s jacket off his shoulders. Alex moved to begin unbuttoning his shirt, but Greg caught his wrists and held them, looking into Alex’s eyes as he dragged his hands back to his side.

“Let me,” Greg said, then began the process of unbuttoning, slow and intentional, while Alex’s heartbeat grew faster as he fought the impulse to move his hands again. Finally the last button was freed and Greg pushed Alex’s shirt off to join his jacket on the floor. 

Bare-chested now, Alex was beginning to feel more exposed, but Greg’s large hand was already caressing the hair there as his other hand brought Alex’s head down for another kiss. Greg took Alex’s lip between his teeth in the same moment that he pinched a nipple, causing Alex to groan again and involuntarily grind into Greg’s lap.

“Oh, very good,” Greg cooed, moving a hand to Alex’s backside and slipping it under his waistband, digging fingers into the soft flesh of his arse. “Let’s move to the bedroom.”

Alex’s neck prickled at those words. He waited for Greg to remove his hands and then stood up, his footing even less certain than it had been at the bar. Was this really happening?

Greg stood as well and gently pivoted Alex around the couch and down a hallway. An open door at the end beckoned him, and he walked through it to find a large, comfortable-looking bed, with what looked like a heavy headboard made out of iron.

“Take everything off and get on the bed,” Greg instructed, leaning close behind Alex’s ear.

Alex nodded and began removing his shoes, socks, and trousers. When he was left in only his pants he looked back at Greg, who cocked an eyebrow and pursed his lips in apparent disapproval. Alex took a deep breath and removed them, then crawled onto the bed. When he reached the top he turned over to face Greg, nervous about being vulnerable and laid bare but more nervous about disobeying. Greg eyed him with appraisal, but Alex couldn’t discern whether he liked what he was seeing. But then Greg slowly began removing his own clothing, and, keeping eye contact with Alex, dropped each piece onto the floor until he too was nude.

Alex was intimidated by Greg’s size, not just the hardening cock that Alex’s eyes tried not to linger on, but the sheer size of him as he approached the bed. Greg balanced over him with apparent comfort, though, and resumed their snogging with an increased fervor. His hands roamed Alex’s body for a moment, brushing lightly against his cock as Greg’s teeth scraped along Alex’s jawline. Alex made an unseemly noise that only seemed to delight Greg, who wrapped a hand around him and began to pump slowly as his mouth traveled Alex’s neck and chest, leaving a trail of open-mouth kisses as he went.

“Can I—” Alex breathed, his words stuttering in the wake of Greg’s attention, “can I touch you?”

Greg stopped moving and pushed himself up on his arm, looking down at Alex with a grin.

“I’ve got a better idea,” Greg said, then leaned over to his side table and opened a drawer. He returned with a bottle of lubricant, then opened the cap and poured the liquid into Alex’s offered hand. “I want you to touch yourself. Make yourself ready for me.”

Alex looked at his hand, then nodded slowly and used his other hand to prop himself up on the bed. He reached behind himself and let the lube fall from his fingers between his arse cheeks, then ran his fingers into the crevice, shuddering with anticipation as his finger circled the puckered flesh then pressed inside. He had been looking down to focus on the task at hand, but Greg pulled Alex’s chin up to now watch his face as he finger-fucked himself. Alex repeated the motion a few times, eyes locked, until the inside felt coated and accepted his fingers with relative ease.

“I’m ready,” Alex said, though god knew where the confidence came from. He’d fooled around with a couple other lads back in university, everyone hormone-fueled and desperate to get off with whoever would have them, but it was all clumsy groping and quick finishes, nothing like this. 

Greg poured more lube onto his own hand, then ran it down his shaft, coating it in slick liquid as it gave an appreciative twitch at the contact.

“Turn over,” he told Alex, and Alex obeyed, gripping the bars of the headboard with his still slick hands. “If you need me to stop, you have to say so, okay?”

“Yes sir.”

Alex felt Greg’s hand slip between his arse cheeks, teasing the sensitive flesh there before pressing a finger inside. The finger was joined by a second and then they curled, making Alex cry out from the sensation inside him. Greg repeated the motion with that hand and used the other to reach around and stroke Alex’s cock, escalating the coiling energy inside him and making Alex worry this would be a very short experience indeed. As soon as he had grown accustomed to the fingers’ ministrations in either place, they were gone, making him whine.

Greg positioned himself behind Alex, pressing against him in a torturous way as he gripped Alex’s hips. He waited until Alex breathed again, and on his exhale, slowly pushed inside. Alex moaned at the fullness, both craved and harsh, hissing in surprise and wanting more all at once. Greg pushed further in until Alex let out a low grunt, unable to take any more.

“You okay?” Greg asked.

“Yes, I’m fine.”

“Course you are,” Greg said quietly, reaching a hand to stroke the back of Alex’s neck. “You’re wonderful.” The rare fondness came through and made Alex genuinely blush, despite the situation.

Greg began moving again, slowly pushing in and out several times, making Alex whimper and push back against him every time his prostate was grazed. As their speed increased, a hand reached around to stroke him again, moving in time, Greg thrusting into Alex’s body and Alex thrusting into Greg’s hand. He could feel himself losing control, growing more frantic with his movements as his orgasm crested. He cried out and stilled, white-knuckled around the headboard and vision flashing as Greg’s cock pounded Alex’s climax out of him. 

The hand released his cock and returned to his hip to steady them as Greg thrust ever quicker, his own noises of pleasure beginning to escalate. Alex was still coming down from his own orgasm when he heard Greg grunt forcefully and felt the pulse of come inside him.  
  
Greg lowered himself, panting, over Alex, giving a tender kiss to his shoulder before withdrawing and shifting to the other side of the bed. It took most of Alex’s energy to turn from his stomach onto his side, but he was rewarded: the sight of Greg, hair mussed with sweat, looking back at him with satisfaction. 

“I genuinely want to kiss you right now,” Alex sighed with a contented smile.

“Do you?” Greg let out a small laugh, re-enacting their conversation on stage. “Come on then…”


End file.
